


Extraction Plan

by Luniana



Series: Imagine ClintCoulson Prompts [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:18:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luniana/pseuds/Luniana
Summary: calltomuster asked: Phil gets captured on a mission. Clint leads a group of Phil's junior agent protégées to get him back.





	Extraction Plan

Mid-morning sunlight streamed through the large windows of Clint’s apartment. Clint was on his back on the old purple couch with his eyes buried under one arm. Lying across his chest was Lucky, his one-eyed golden mix. Lucky was more than content to indulge his human in a long lie-in, but hushed sounds from the hallway brought the dog’s ears up to a perk.

*

Mack and Daisy stood outside Clint’s apartment. Daisy held her laptop in one hand, clicking intermittently at the keys for a moment, a frown on her lips.

“You got it?” Mack whispered.

There was a brief pause. “There’s nothing to get.” She replied, perplexed

“You mean it’s too high tech?”

Daisy shook her head. “No, I mean there isn’t anything. There’s no system…it’s just a door.” Looking a bit frustrated Daisy grabbed the door handle and gave it a jiggle. “And it’s not locked.” They both watched the door slide quietly open in bewilderment.

*

Lucky let out a welcoming _‘woof’_ and pushed off of Clint, forcing all the air out of his lungs as he jumped down. 

“Aww, dog.” Clint groaned, curling up protectively around his now hurting ribcage.

*

“Hello puppy!” Daisy tucked her laptop under one arm and offered her hand for the mutt to sniff. She was rewarded for her friendliness with a very enthusiastic licking of said hand and whatever part of her face Lucky could reach before the dog turned his attention to Mack who was also more than happy to kneel down and meet the dog properly.

*

Clint had finally rolled over enough to realize he had company. Squinting in the sunlight, he reached over to the TV tray next to the couch to grab his hearing aids while he watched the tiny brunette setup a laptop on his kitchen counter while a tall-dark-and-handsome continued to flirt with his dog. 

“Guys, I’m not buying whatever you're selling,” he told them as he flipped on his hearing aids and finally sat up straight. “What the hell, shouldn’t I have to invite you in or something?”

*

Daisy and Mack looked up at him and opened their mouths to respond when Fitz and Simmons walked in, each with a cardboard tray of coffees. 

“Sorry!” Jemma announced as they started passing out coffees. “The line-up was atrocious. Tripp’s still waiting for the scones!”

“Extra-large coffee, black, two sugars,” Fitz explained as he handed Clint a coffee, meeting Clint’s incredulous gaze quickly before dropping his eyes and stepping away.

Clint opened his mouth again to demand to know why the Scooby Gang was taking over his apartment when Tripp appeared with a bag and announced, “Got the scones!” to everyone’s apparent delight, including Lucky’s.

“OK! Whoa! Everyone, time out!” Clint stood and tried to make a ‘T’ with his hand and his coffee. Happily, everyone stopped handing out scones and opening coffee cups to look at him. “You.” He pointed at Daisy. “Explain.”

“I thought you’d already talked to him.” Jemma hissed under her breath, looking embarrassed.

Daisy glared the other woman into silence and then waved awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Daisy,” and then her face became deadly serious, “and we need your help.”

“Whatever it is, no. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, and you cannot just barge into my apartment, feed my dog scones and get your own private Avenger. That’s not how it works!” Clint moved towards the door to gesture for the group to leave.

“They’ve got Coulson.” Daisy announced just as his hand touched the door handle.

_ Shit, not the ‘C’ word _ . Clint closed his eyes and tried to take a deep, calming breath while clenching his left hand tight. He mostly failed at calming himself, so he shut his door before turning to glare at Daisy.

“Coulson and May went undercover at a big-bad’s shindig and didn’t come out again. We lost contact just as the party was supposed to be drawing to a close.”

“Extraction plan?” Clint asked, popping the top on his coffee and taking a sip.

“There wasn’t one,” Mack replied, unhappily. “We didn’t think they’d need one.”

Clint snorted. “Coulson and May? Yeah, they wouldn’t think they’d need one either.” He looked down at his coffee, then saluted Fitz with the cup. Wherever they’d gotten it from, it was amazing, and just how he liked it. “So who’s in charge with them both MIA? Don’t tell me one of you scoobies.”

Suddenly everyone either looked at the ground, took a bite of scone or a sip from their coffee.

Mack finally spoke. “With our current chain of command, that puts me in charge of the team,” he explained quietly. “But we still answer to the Director.”

“We don’t actually have clearance to be here,” Tripp continued, stepping forward to offer the bag with the remaining scones to Clint. “The Director told us Coulson and May were on their own. He couldn’t risk the PR disaster if we failed at a rescue.” Clint shook his head at the offer of scones, stomach rolling too much for a hit of carbs.

“We went to Bobbi and Hunter first, but they’re on the other side of the planet and can’t get out from under their cover fast enough.” Jemma added softly.

“Bobbi said to find you.” Daisy completed the circle, meeting Clint’s gaze squarely. He’d seen that look before; this woman would go through hell and back to help Coulson. To pay him back for whatever it was he’d done for her. He glanced around the room, all eyes on him, and saw the same look in each pair of eyes he met. 

Bobbi was in such deep shit when he saw her next. And not just for sending these kids to his door.

“Coulson hasn’t spoken to me since before the Battle of New York,” he told them soberly, forcing himself to keep his left hand in a fist. “I believed he was dead until SHIELD imploded and all the files were dumped into the internet. I believed that I had a hand in killing him, until then.” That had their attention. “I’m not your guy. Sorry.” He turned away and pulled his door open. “Now, out.”

“No, we’re not done here.” Daisy spoke first, but to Clint’s amusement, it was Lucky that took the initiative, giving an excited woof and heading right out the open door.

“Fine, close the door when you’re done your coffee, I gotta walk the dog.” He didn’t give them time to object, turning quickly on his heel and marching out the door. As he tried to walk with dignity down the stairs after the skittering paws of his dog, he heard the tell-tale clomp of female boots coming after him.

He didn’t turn to look at or acknowledge Daisy as she fell into step beside him. He did however force on a smile and wave as one of his tenants met them on the way up.

“Oh Clint!” Mrs. Jackson called out with a smile. “I know you’re a busy man, but if you could drop by and take a look at my AC unit sometime?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Jackson.” He nodded, filing that task away into the too-long list of things to do as the owner of the building. “Just going to walk Lucky and I’ll be right up.”

“Thank you, Clint!” she replied as she continued on her way.

By the time they’d finally reached the street in front of his building, Clint had two more tasks from other tenants of the building. He saw Daisy stop at the top of the steps as he hurried after Lucky towards the park, holding one hand to her ear in a rookie “I’m speaking to my teammates and not being stealthy about it” move, but he ignored it.

She caught up to him halfway to the park and said nothing, her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Lucky looped back to woof at her encouragingly, earning himself an ear scratch from the woman before taking off back down the street.

“Is it true that you and Agent Romanoff never needed an extraction plan either?” Daisy finally spoke.

Clint couldn’t help the surprised snort and chuckle that followed that question. “Where did you hear that?”

“Agent Hand. Before.” She made a little gesture with her shoulders that he interpreted as ‘before Hydra fucked everyone over’.

Clint whistled. “Damn, I’d heard they’d gotten her. Didn’t believe it, actually.” He considered his reply to her original question. “Nat didn’t trust the analysts at first; she wouldn’t even look at what they prepared. She trusted me and Phil, as an extension of me, and that was about it. So it was sort of up to the three of us to make our own.” They reached the park and Clint just followed Lucky as he moved casually from tree to tree to bench to tree marking his territory and checking in with the local flora and fauna. “We always had an exit strategy: it was Phil. He’d make it himself, at first, until Natasha could trust the analysts, but we always had one.”

“And what happened when it was Phil? When he was out there, alone, instead of you?” 

Daisy wasn’t looking at Clint, so she didn’t see the glare he sent her for the question.  He looked away quickly though, noticing as Lucky caught sight of something super interesting and started stalking after it.

“Aww, dog, no!” Clint shouted, realizing his dog was stalking an older couple having a picnic. “Lucky, come here!”

Daisy couldn’t help but chuckle as the one-eyed dog loped back toward them with his head hung low. He went to Daisy for comfort, shoving his full weight against her knees with his butt towards Clint.  

“He always knew we’d come for him,” Clint said quietly.

Daisy glanced at him while scratching Lucky’s back, but Clint didn’t meet her gaze.

Clint was quite studiously staring at the ground until he sighed heavily and looked up at her. “Alright, let’s go get your boss back.”

*

Lucky bounded up the steps to Clint’s apartment building, stopping and waiting for the door to be opened. Daisy and Clint were just behind him but didn’t need to hurry as Mrs. Jackson opened the door for Lucky and stepped out after him. She beamed at Clint. “Oh Clint! Thank you so much for sending your friends over! My AC unit is humming along perfectly, and Mack was kind enough to fix the leak in my kitchen sink.”

Clint plastered on a big fake smile for her. “That’s great, I’m so glad they could take care of that for you. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, Mrs. Jackson.” He punctuated this with a glare at Daisy who merely smiled and followed after Lucky.

“Not at all, Clint. I’d rather you were out saving the world than fixing my sink.” She patted his shoulder affectionately and stepped down the stairs.

Clint didn’t think they’d been gone that long, but he heard two more similar stories as he climbed up to his apartment. Apparently, the Scooby gang had been quite busy in their absence. Stepping into his apartment, he found the pack of them standing around his kitchen trying to look innocent while finishing off the last of their coffees.

Clint ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Alright. What do you need from me?”

Everyone’s eyes took on a gleeful shine at his acceptance before they seemed to jump to life, surrounding his kitchen table and beginning to outline the previous op, their suspicions of what happened and where Coulson and May might be being held.

“Daisy’s done an amazing job so far, but without access to the Shield databases, it’s taking too long,” Fitz explained over the holographic representation of a compound they’d identified as potentially housing the prisoners. “If we access our databases, Mace will know what we’re up to and be forced to step in.”

Clint nodded before pulling out his phone. “I think I know someone who could help.” He dialed a quick number and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, Friday. Yeah, good to hear your voice too. Listen, I’ve got this pack of friends over and we need a hand with something and if you could, I’d like this to stay between us.”

“Are you talking to Friday?” Fitz murmured, his eyes going wide, his expression mirrored by Simmons. “Like Friday, Friday?”

“Who’s Friday?” Mack asked, sounding concerned at bringing in another foreign party.

“Ladies and gentlemen...” Clint set his phone down in the middle of his table and pushed a button. “I’d like to introduce you to Friday.”

A holographic projection of a young woman’s head with straight red hair cut into a stylish bob appeared over the table. Fitz actually made a tiny squealing noise that made Tripp look at him funny. 

“Hello everyone, I’m Friday, it’s very nice to meet you. Hawkeye tells me you need some help.”

“You’re sure we can trust her?” Mack continued to frown.

Fitz made a noise like a small kettle. “Mack! This is _FRIDAY_!” He gestured wildly to the floating head that flipped her hair in appreciation of Fitz’s obvious worship. “Tony Stark’s personal AI.”

The eyes around the table held newfound respect for the woman who merely smirked. “Hawkeye says you guys need a hand?”

Daisy tossed Clint a grin before turning her attention back to the AI. “We do, we need your help gaining access to this compound.” She gestured to the mostly blank schematic hovering not far away from Friday herself.

Friday’s eyes scanned the hologram and she smiled in Daisy’s direction. “Not a problem.”

* 

Phil laid on his back in the crude cell where they’d thrown him. He breathed slowly and carefully around his bruised and potentially broken ribs and listened with deep amusement to the absolute chaos outside. About two hours ago, he began to hear the rumblings that something wasn’t right and tried not to get his hopes up. The people moving past his door murmuring low to each other had turned into boots running to and fro while people shouted, the lights flickering and very occasionally, the ground shaking. He knew that his team had finally come for them.

Knocking out a code on the wall between them, Phil confirmed that Melinda believed the same. “About time.” She replied, no doubt caustically. He knew from their conversations through the wall that she wasn’t as badly hurt as he was. They’d tried to use her against him twice and she’d fed their egos by screaming bloody murder when she’d been more roughly manhandled training new recruits. He could not say the same for himself unfortunately, but from what he could see, there was nothing particularly life threatening, provided he was careful.

He was pleased to be lying on his back when he heard a racket above and watched a man-sized circle being carved out of the roof of his cell. The Mouse Hole device fell to the floor with a clatter, sprinkling the room with dust and bits of concrete before continuing its mission and drilling downwards out of sight with a splash.

Rolling carefully over, Phil approached the hole and looked down. It was about a six foot drop down into murky looking water, however there was something down there wearing strips of dim LED lights that signaled the water wasn’t too deep. Phil could only raise an eyebrow as the strange hunched figure barked encouragingly.

He heard May land in the water with a splash and watched the dog do an excited dance to her side.  “I guess this is one of ours. It’s wearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo.” May explained before looking up at him. “If you try to lower yourself slowly, I can grab your ankles and make your fall less horrific.”

“That would be appreciated.” He agreed and started angling himself down the hole.

It hurt like hell, but he was able to make his way down with May’s help where he leaned against the concrete walls of the sewer and tried to catch his breath. May dug through the LED-covered jacket the dog wore and was pleased to find flashlights, a small med kit and two comm units. To her quiet amusement once she was done playing with his jacket, the dog actually nosed around in the water until he’d found both Mouse Hole units and she’d been able to tuck them into his pockets.

“Sit rep, please.” Coulson announced once his comm was in place.

“Good to hear your voice, sir.” Daisy replied. “We are in full distraction mode on the North side of the compound. If you’ll follow Agent Lucky to the South, he’ll lead you to the end of the drainage pipe and Tripp will pick you up.”

“Agent Lucky?” May raised one eyebrow as she looked down at the retriever mix who _‘woofed’_ back at her before turning and leading them south, as they’d been instructed.

“Who are we to argue?” Phil gave an amused shrug and started carefully following the dog.

They saw a literal light at the end of the tunnel after approximately twenty minutes of walking. There was a floor to ceiling fence covering the entrance but someone had already picked the lock and left it ajar for them. Stepping into the sunlight, they moved up onto the small bank next to the sewer’s small stream and May signaled to the team that they’d arrived while Agent Lucky nosed about in the grass.

Not five minutes later, Tripp arrived in a small golf cart and wearing the uniform of a golf caddy. He smiled widely as he announced, “your chariot awaits,” laughing as Agent Lucky jumped up next to him without hesitation.

May shot the one-eyed dog a withering look, but helped Phil up onto the back of the cart without complaint.

The ride to the quinjet wasn’t a long one, but Fitz and Simmons were waiting on the ramp for their arrival, Simmons with her med kit in hand. “Let’s get you inside, sir. We’ll need to take off as soon as everyone’s on board.”

Phil nodded and followed after her, but paused as he glanced past the quinjet. “When did we get a second quinjet?”

“Oh, that’s a loaner.” Tripp explained as the ramp for the second quinjet began to open.

“Thanks, buddy,” Fitz murmured to the dog as he got the last strap open on Agent Lucky’s tac vest. He gave the dog a good ear rub before a gentle nudge towards the second quinjet.

A second golf cart with Mack at the wheel and Daisy sitting shotgun sped towards them after mounting a hill next to the second quinjet. Mack slowed the cart down enough for a man with shaggy blond hair to jump off the back and give a quick goodbye. 

Phil felt the blood in his veins begin to ice over as he watched that familiar figure turn to look at him. Clint met his gaze coldly before giving a single brief nod. He raised his left hand, the one with the single silver ring, and then turned his back.

“Clint,” he whispered, his brain firing memories, images, words, scents...anything it could to both strengthen and hide from the overwhelming cold sense of loss threatening to stop his heart.

“Coulson?” He distantly heard Jemma’s worried tone, felt her grab his arm as though to stop him from collapsing. “Coulson!”

“Clint.” He wasn’t sure if he whispered it or screamed it, watching Clint walk up the ramp into the second quinjet, his dog climbing up to join him. They’d taken Clint from him. Tahiti, Fury, the doctors, the serum, they’d taken Clint from him and he hadn’t even known. Somewhere far away, he could hear his team yelling, could dimly feel the pain as he was lifted into the quinjet.

*

Clint reached the top of the ramp of Stark’s quinjet and reached for the button to close the ramp. _There_ , he thought to himself, glancing down at Lucky, _did my duty, paid him back.  Now we can both go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist._  Lucky gave a brief whine, pushing himself against Clint’s side.  

“Clint!” May’s voice stopped him, the tone of it making him turn as she ran towards him. “Clint, he won’t stop saying your name. Jemma thinks he’s going to have a heart attack if we can’t calm him down.”

He hesitated. “What am I supposed to…”

“Clint, _now_.” She barked at him and instinct took over, sending him running towards the other quinjet.

There was chaos inside the quinjet with Simmons shouting at the others to try and hold Phil down without hurting him. Over the chaos was Phil, struggling against them and shouting for Clint, shouting “they took him!”  

“Clint, do something!” Daisy was there at Phil’s head, trying to keep him still.

“Move.” Daisy stepped out of his way and Clint moved up to cup Phil’s jaw in both hands. “Phil, I’m here. I’m right here. Nobody took me.” It helped. Phil stopped fighting them, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“Clint,” Phil whispered his name this time, his eyes still tightly closed. “Clint, they took you.”

“I’m right here.” He whispered back, leaning close to whisper a simple code into Phil’s ear, one they’d made between them, just them, for emergencies.

“No, Clint.” Phil finally opened his eyes, meeting Clint’s worried gaze. “They took you from _ME_.”

Clint looked up at the others in confusion.

“Tahiti,” Jemma deduced, looking to Daisy.

“When they brought him back to life, they played with his brain,” Daisy explained. “Implanted memories…maybe they took some, too?”

Clint bit back a snarl, it wouldn’t help Phil right now. He returned his attention to Phil, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’m here now,” He said. “But you need to rest. You’re no good to anyone with your ribcage punctured through your lungs.”

“Clint, don’t go,” Phil whispered, shaking his head.

Clint rubbed a thumb across Phil’s cheekbone. “I’ll stay. I’ll be here when you wake up, alright?”

Phil nodded and Clint nodded to Simmons who injected something into Phil’s arm that finally put the older man asleep. Clint felt everyone around him relax a bit, but he stayed where he was, hunched over Phil for a long moment, listening to his even breathing. 

Finally he looked up at Daisy. “I’ll get Friday to drive Stark’s quinjet home. In the meantime, I need you to explain…everything.”

*

Phil could hear the quiet beeps and the hushed silence of the med bay, but that was not what had woken him. Something cold and wet had been pressed into the back of his hand, and as he tried to identify what it could be, it turned into a warm, wet, lick.

“Oh dog, no!” an achingly familiar voice whispered by his shoulder.

“Clint?” He was almost afraid to open his eyes, but two warm hands took hold of his own..

“Right here.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “They took you from me.” He knew he sounded anguished, broken, but he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t choke back the words.

“They did.” Clint agreed quietly, holding tightly to his hand. “But due to a rather stubborn group of troublemakers, we’ve got a second chance.”

Phil finally opened his eyes, looking over at Clint seated at his bedside. He looked exhausted with heavy bags under his eyes and his hair even scruffier than the last time Phil had seen him. Clint was in jeans and a t-shirt and sitting as close as he could without actually being in Clint’s lap was _Agent_ Lucky, his bottle-brush tail sweeping the brown concrete floor.  Phil couldn’t stop a tiny grin before looking back up at Clint, squeezing his hands. “Yeah?”

The little half-grin Clint gave him made his heart ache in the good way as Clint leaned down and brushed his lips across Phil’s. “Yeah.” He touched their foreheads together. “Phil Coulson, will you marry me?” Clint took the silver ring from his finger and held it up for Phil.

Phil felt his face crumple again. He’d picked that ring out for Clint.  He’d agonized over it, actually. He’d snuck into Clint’s jewelry box and carefully examined every ring the other man owned so he could pick something Clint would truly love. And Clint had worn it, had continued to wear it, even after Phil’s death, even after he’d found out Phil was still alive but had never come back to him. Phil felt the tears slide down his cheeks as he looked back up at Clint and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Clint slid the too-big ring onto the ring finger of Phil’s left hand and kissed him again, deeper this time. “I love you, Phil Coulson,” he whispered as he held Phil close, careful of his ribs. “And this time, we’re going to sing it from the rooftops, so no one will ever be able to take it from us again.”


End file.
